


let the right one slip in

by gothyringwald



Series: state of the heart (harringrove tumblr fic) [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Constipation, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14585802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothyringwald/pseuds/gothyringwald
Summary: A night of monster fighting leads to Billy and Steve getting together. But Steve's tenderness discomfits Billy and he says the wrong thing. Now, he has to find a way to make it up.





	let the right one slip in

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt fic this time for 'Don't look at me like that'. [Here's the fic on tumblr.](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/173718290715/i-didnt-want-you-to-see-this-or-dont-look-at)
> 
> Title from the Morrissey song of the same name.

They're lying in Steve's bed, facing each other, after. Rain pattering on the roof; soft breaths; the rustle of sheets. Earlier, there was another night of fighting monsters that led to desperate kissing and then to the hottest sex Billy has ever had. He'd been so keyed up, vibrating out of his skin, after pummelling those demo-things but now it feels like all his bones have liquified.

Still, there is something in the tender way Steve is looking at him, tracing lazy circles on his wrist, that makes Billy squirm. 'Don't look at me like that.'

'Like what?' Steve asks, voice hoarse. 

Heat flashes through Billy when he remembers why Steve sounds like that. 'Like you _know_ me, now,' he says, derision dripping from his words to mask the panic welling. Steve does know him, he thinks, maybe better than Billy ever wanted anyone to.

Steve's thumb stills on Billy's wrist. His breath catches. 'OK.'

'Just because I let you fuck me, it doesn't mean...' Billy licks his lips. His mouth is dry.

Steve rolls onto his back. ' _OK_. I get it.'

'OK,' Billy repeats. But it's not. What the fuck is wrong with him? He rolls onto his back, too, stares up at Steve's ceiling. His heart pounds and his mind races.

'Maybe you should go,' Steve says, after a few minutes.

Billy goes cold. He'd been so warm moments ago. 'Uh, yeah,' he says and gets out of bed. He nearly stumbles as his knee gives way. He hopes Steve doesn't notice.

He dresses in silence, can hear Steve breathing over the sound of his fly as he zips it up, his boots on the floor, the unsteady thrum of his pulse in his ears. His clothes sit uncomfortably, covered in monster blood and viscera, but it's more that his skin feels all wrong beneath them, that he knows he still smells like Steve. When he's dressed, he looks over to Steve, who is on his side, facing away from Billy. If Billy looks hard enough, he thinks he can see the impression of his teeth in Steve's shoulder. He swallows.

'I didn't...' Billy starts, but doesn't know how to finish. Apologies don't come easily, at least not when he means them. 'I'll see you at school,' is what he finally says before he walks out of Steve's room, down the stairs and out the front door.

It's when he's halfway home that he finally stops, knees buckling. His kneecaps hit the pavement, hard. 

'Fuck,' he whispers. Billy hits the pavement with the sides of his fists, now. ' _Fuck_!' He sits back on his heels and fists his hands in his hair. Maybe he's overreacting—it's not like he said Steve was a lousy lay, or told him to fuck off—but he knows in his gut he's ruined this thing that's been growing between them. Whatever it was.

__

Billy expects Steve to freeze him out, after that night, but he doesn't. They're still friends, they still go for pizza after practice, drink beer at the quarry, watch movies at Steve's. It's like nothing else ever happened between them. That should be what Billy wants. He doesn't—can't—want a lover, or a boyfriend, or a...whatever. But it aches to be near Steve and not kiss him now that he knows what it's like. So, Billy decides he needs to find a way to kiss Steve, again, without fucking it up, this time.

In the end, it happens by accident.

It's a few weeks after that night and Billy and Steve are watching _An American Werewolf in London_ , slumped on Steve's couch. Steve doesn't really like horror movies, but they always end up watching one. He used to shift closer to Billy in the scary scenes, but he doesn't anymore. That's one thing that has changed, between them—there are no casual touches, now. Billy hadn't realised how often he and Steve touched, how often Steve touched him, until it stopped.

On the television, David has just turned for the first time. Billy takes a long pull of his beer and says that he thinks being a werewolf would be cool, even with the gruesome transformation.

Steve raises his brows, incredulously. 'Seriously. After everything we've seen, you still think it'd be cool?' 

Billy shrugs.

'What if-' Steve looks up to the ceiling, chewing his lip. He's thinking, Billy can tell from the little crease between his brows, the way he purses his lips. Billy smiles. Steve looks back to Billy and says, 'What if someone got you with a silver bullet?'

Billy rolls his eyes as if to say 'that's all you've got?' and says, 'I wouldn't get caught.' Without thinking, he winks and adds, 'You know me, quick on my feet.'

Steve's jaw goes tight and his voice is clipped as he says, 'I thought I didn't know you.' It’s the first time Steve has acknowledged that night and Billy feels like all the air has left the room. 

His heart thunders when he realises it's because of what he's said. He could make a joke, go get another beer, say he needs to piss. But he's been waiting for a chance like this, so he says, 'Well, I was wrong.'

Steve sucks in a shaking breath. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' Billy doesn't know how his voice sounds so even when he feels like he's shaking all over.

'OK. So, I know you. What does that mean?' 

'It means. It means I fucked up and I want...' Billy flounders. 

Silence stretches out between them. The simplest answer, the truth, is 'you'—Billy wants Steve in every way—but he can't get that one syllable out. He closes his eyes. Of all the times for his quick tongue to still, it has to be now.

Steve places his hand on the side of Billy's neck, strokes his thumb along Billy's jaw. 'It's OK,' he says. 'I guess you don't have to say anything.'

Billy nods, leans into Steve's touch. 'OK.'

'But don't...don't talk to me that way, again. Don't act like I don't matter, OK?' Steve's voice is somewhere between miserable and pissed off and it feels like a kick in the gut.

Billy keeps his eyes closed. He can't look at Steve or he'll say something stupid, again. He nods—once, jerky—and then leans forward. With his eyes closed, he doesn't quite meet Steve's mouth. His cheeks burn. Steve huffs, amused, and shifts so their lips are touching. Billy makes a choked, desperate noise he would be ashamed of if it didn't feel so good to be kissing Steve, again. He cups Steve's face, slides his tongue into Steve's mouth.

When they part, Billy says, 'Sorry,' in a soft, strangled voice. Steve doesn't ask what for, just strokes his hand over Billy's face, once, and then settles beside him. They watch the rest of the movie holding hands and, when there's a scary scene, Steve presses his thigh against Billy's, and squeezes his hand tight.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) Feel free to come find me on tumblr [@gothyringwald](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Here's a link to the fic post over there, too.](http://gothyringwald.tumblr.com/post/173718290715/i-didnt-want-you-to-see-this-or-dont-look-at)
> 
> OK, An American Werewolf in London isn't really scary, IIRC, but I needed Billy to say 'you know me' in a kind of joking way and this is how my brain resolved it? I think I saw something about werewolf Billy on my dash and had just been thinking about 80s movies I could see them watching and, you know, it merged.
> 
> Also, I guess this is a good time to say my,  
> not overly thought out, headcanon is Billy loves horror movies (and action movies) but Steve doesn't (never has, but he's also like 'I've seen enough real scary things, I don't need to watch movies about them' which is partly projecting* but, hey, that's what fic is for! He does like action movies, though.) *I haven't seen real scary things but my brain provides enough of them. Hello, my name is gothy, and I'm an oversharer!


End file.
